Or by a _Trick_ persuades Mankind to _live_? 410
No--when with _Prudence_ join'd 'tis still the _same_ }
Or _ripens_ into _Friendship's_ nobler _Name_, }
The _Matter_ pure, immortal is the _Flame_. }
No _Fool_, no _Debauchee_ could ever prove
The _honest Luxury of Virtuous Love_;
Then _curs'd_ are those who that _fair Name_ abuse,
And holy _Hymen's_ sacred _Fillets_ loose;
Who _poison Fountains_, and _infect_ the _Air_,
_Ruine_ the _Witty_, and _debauch_ the _Fair_;
With _nauseous Images_ their _Scenes_ debase 420
At once their Country's _Ruine_ and _Disgrace_.
_Weigh_ well each _Thought_ if all be _Just_ and _Right_,
For those must clearly _think_ who clearly _write_.
Nothing _obscure_, _equivocal_, or _mean_,
Much less what is or _impious_ or _obscene_:
Altho the tempting _Serpent_ play his part,
And wind in _glitt'ring Folds_ around thy _Heart_;
Reject the _trait'rous Charmer_, tear him thence,
And keep thy _Vertue_ and thy _Innocence_.
[Sidenote: _The Manchinel, or Eves Apple_.]
In wild _America's_ rank _Champaign_ grows 430
A _Tree_ which _Europe_ oft too dearly knows;
It rises high in _cool inchanting Groves_,
Whose green broad Leaves the fainting _Trav'ler_ loves;
_Fair_ is the treach'rous _Fruit_, and charms your _Eye_,
But ah! beware! for if you _taste_ you _die_.
Too well alas! it _thrives_ when _planted_ here,
Its deadly Branches shade our _Theatre_.
Of _Mesures, Numbers, Pauses_ next I sing,